Fight This Together
by Lancora
Summary: Dylan notices that something is troubling Lofty and can't make the thought leave his head. Suddenly Lofty breaks down and turns to Dylan for support. After Lofty opens up about his anxiety disorder, Dylan vows to do what ever it takes to help Lofty fight it, throwing the two closer together...
1. Chapter 1

Dylan felt his forehead crease as he watched the curly haired nurse's hands shake as he connected a catheter to the middle-aged patient in cubicles.

"Lofty." The nurse raised his head, eyes wide as if he expected to be beaten. "Ask Robyn to takeover would you?" The doctor pushed past the nurse to examine the patient's head wounds again and couldn't ignore the strange pang in his stomach. This wasn't a one-off event. For all his social failings. Dylan could see that something was affecting his friend. _Friend_. Dylan chuckled to himself, only a few months earlier he had refused to work with the clumsy incompetent nurse. Dylan felt his stomach twist in shame, he could be so heartless.

Shaking his head, Dr Keogh returned himself to the present. _Right, focus. Head, spine, clear. Good._ Whenever his thoughts began to drift to Lofty, which had become an increasing occurrence, Dylan shook them off and returned his mind to what it did best. There was no point troubling himself with emotions, he would never be good enough at that. Not like Lofty. _Ahh_. Wrapping his stethoscope behind his neck Dylan left the cubicle and made his way towards the ambulance bay, ignoring beckons from Rita. He just needed some fresh air. To clear his mind. To think.

As he was met by a cold gust of January air Dylan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He made his way to the bench he liked to sit on, from this position he could see the whole ambulance bay. Holby, his life. Why did that thought fill Dylan with an intense loneliness? Again, he found his mind wandering back to the curly haired nurse. Trembling hands, lack of appetite, sleep disturbances (Lofty's heavy eyes gave that away). If he were a patient... No. Dylan couldn't think straight; it hurt him too much. Taking a deep breath he made his way back inside the ED.

Rita leaned forward, elbows on the desk, massaging her temples.

"I have had it up to here with him." She looked up at Dylan.

"Who?" Dylan rested his hands on his hips.

"That Lofty" Dylan felt his stomach twist and blood rise in his cheeks

"He only bloody went and had a panic attack treating an RTC patient in resus. And he's expecting a promotion? Gees." Dylan could see her mouth moving and eyes flashing but he felt numb, and could only hear the blood pulsing in his ears.

"Where is he now?"

"Who, Lofty? Staff room. And I'm not letting him out again. Dylan, where are you going?"

"Dylan you're needed in resus!" Connie's voice resonated, but the doctor ignored her and made a beeline for the staff room. _All else can wait. I'm needed in the staff room too_. His heart rate began to elevate, what could he do? He was useless with emotional matters... I'll just have to see him as a patient, Dylan decided, instead of- he could feel his stomach twist.

"Lofty..?" The curly haired nurse was curled in a corner of the staff room, face hidden, visibly shaking. At the sight of him Dylan couldn't hesitate but rushed over crouching beside him. He placed his hands on Lofty's upper arms and hushed him. Lofty raised his mop of curls and met Dylan's gaze with swollen red eyes. Dylan felt his insides contort as they pulled each other into an embrace. Dylan felt a strange sense of peace wash over him as he buried his head into Lofty's shoulder.

"I..i-it's just I-"

"Shh" Dylan hushed, hugging the nurse in closer

"I get so anxious s-sometimes I-"

"Lofty have you had any help for this?" Dylan whispered, his former fears of Lofty suffering from an anxiety disorder becoming a reality.

"No, I... I c-can usually keep it under c-control, it's just I-" voice trembling, Lofty pulled away from Dylan to meet his eyes. Such a beautiful mixture of green and brown, Dylan thought.

"D-Dylan, I-I asked Rita if I could work with you, it's, I"

He took a deep breath and the doctor's brow creased in worry

"You keep me calm, you, you make me feel safe.." Lofty whispered dropping his gaze to the floor where they both sat. Dylan could feel his heart swell with love and pity for the younger nurse. He couldn't remember feeling this way in a long time. He tentatively stroked a hand through Lofty's curls that he'd always been so fond of.

"I want to help you" Dylan soothed, and rested his forehead against Loftys.

They sat there together on the staff room floor for a long time, foreheads touching. Dylan could feel Lofty's breath on his cheek, slower now, calmer. He suddenly realized why it was that he'd noticed Lofty's anxiety symptoms: he knew how it felt. He knew how it felt to try to conceal a part of yourself that no one wants to see; that you are ashamed of; that's completely controlling you. Dylan had his OCD under much more control now, and it had really changed his life. In that moment Dylan vowed to do what ever it would take to help Lofty with his anxiety.

"Let's fight this together." He whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

Lofty shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he stood alone in the ED staffroom, staring blindly through the half-open shutters out towards the ambulance bay. _In. Out. In._ He tried to steady his breathing. Realising that he had been rubbing his hands together so hard that they had turned a bright shade of red, he thrust them into the trouser pockets of his scrubs. A quick glance at the clock; 7:56. He needed to distract himself. _In. Out._ He closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the ceiling. _Please stop, please please stop._

He started at the cardboard box being placed (rather heavily) on the table. _Dylan_. He let out a breath. The older doctor always seemed to have a calming effect on Lofty's anxiety.

"Morning." Dylan cleared his throat, hands settling on his hips and gaze directed down towards the box on the table.

"Err just a selection of things I brought.. I hope they help. Talk to me if you need anything." With his face still tilted downwards, Dylan shot Lofty a glance up through his eyebrows before turning and abruptly leaving the staffroom. Lofty felt his cheeks flush. Dylan was embarrassed about yesterday. Why wouldn't he be? _I was a total mess in front of him. Again._ Lofty could still feel the touch of the doctor's forehead resting on his own as he had calmed the nurse after his panic attack. It had felt so natural. How strange. A faint smile tugged at Lofty's lips. How could it feel natural to be so close to Holby's most aloof doctor? Lofty felt his stomach twist.

Perching on a stool, Lofty peaked into the cardboard box. What was this? A light blue CD titled "Calm", a little brown bottle of "Rescue Remedy", a small yellow box containing two sheets of- what was this?- "Dysto-logesS"?, and a small card on which was scrawled "Ben Hardy" and below: a telephone number. Lofty stared, gawking. He became conscious of his heart again, but for a different reason. It seemed to swell in his chest as he sat there in disbelief.

"What's that?" Robyn sang, entering the staffroom for her morning cup of tea.

"Oh, oh nothing." Lofty muttered, scrambling off his stool and shoving the box into his locker. He walked out towards the main desk; still unable to process what exactly had happened. Who knew Dylan could be so thoughtful? Lofty had always seen something deep swimming in the doctor's blue eyes. Robyn had laughed when he'd told her. "Dr Keogh? A heart? Never!" She'd chuckled, and given him a shove for being soft. But there was something there. Lofty was sure of it.

Lofty's morning had gone rather smoothly, for a day in Holby ED that is. He'd sorted a teen footballer's dislocated shoulder, stitched up a nasty forehead gash on a patient who had slipped on the icy pavements and even managed to relocate a run-away patient; after 30 minutes of searching he'd found the elderly lady having a cigarette outside in her hospital gown. Then at 3:27 came a call to resus: a 20 year old burn victim, caught in a house fire. _Oh no._ Lofty could feel his heart beginning to pound as he helped Dixie, Dylan and Louise transfer the patient onto a bed in bay 2. He could feel his palms sweating. _Oh no, please please not now._ Sounds began to muffle. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Connie was busy treating a patient in bay 3. _Please don't let her see, please oh please._

"Lofty?" Dylan sidled up to the nurse and placed a worried hand on his shoulder. Lofty couldn't meet his eyes. He was paralyzed.

"Rita, Rita can you take over please? Lofty, you're coming with me, now." Lofty could barely hear Dylan's low rumbling voice over the sound of blood in his ears and was barely aware of the doctor dragging him to the staffroom.

Lofty could feel the air condensing all around him. Fear wrapped its iron hands around his throat and began to squeeze. Panic rose in his throat like acid as he gasped for air. _I think I am going to die. Surely I am going to die._

Lofty blinked his eyes open and glanced at the staffroom clock; 4:08. His eyes fell to Dylan, the worried figure paced restlessly back and forth, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. As he noticed Lofty stirring he rushed over to where the nurse lay on the sofa.

"D-Dylan, Dylan, its okay." The doctor was frantically shining his flashlight into the nurse's eyes, one hand measuring his pulse.

"Eat." He instructed, thrusting a small tablet into Lofty's palm.

"Glucose and magnesium." He explained, handing the nurse a mug of water. Lofty swallowed then let out a long shaky breath. He felt exhausted, drained, like he had just run a marathon.

"W-what?"

"You had a panic attack. I brought you in here. You're okay..." He trailed off, trying to recompose himself. A leaden weight settled in Lofty's chest. _No._ He felt numb.

"I'm going to lose my job" He mumbled.

"No, no. I won't let that happen." Dylan blurted, manner-of-fact. "Here" he thrust a small bunch of key's into the nurse's palm. "I want you to go back to my boat. My shift ends in a couple hours. I want to make sure you're okay." The doctor rose to his feet and walked towards his locker to hide the blush rising in his cheeks.

"O-okay.. See you later." Lofty pushed himself up off the couch. He watched the blonde doctor's back as he left for cubicles.

 _Dylan asked me to go to his boat?_ Well, instructed, but that was just Dylan's way. Lofty felt deeply touched by the doctor's kindness. He'd never seen Dylan like that; so flustered. ... _Could he? No._ Ben shook his head. He pulled on his navy hoody and grabbed the cardboard box. He knew he should be worrying about the danger to his career, but all he could think of was the blue eyed doctor. _Yes, Dylan please. Please help me fight this._


	3. Chapter 3

"Come on girl." Dylan ruffled Dervla's ears as he stepped out of Doggy-Daycare and began striding along the frosty pavement in the direction of his houseboat. His shift had only ended half an hour ago, but it had been exactly two hours and fifty minutes since he'd last seen Lofty. And the curly-haired nurse had been consuming his thoughts ever since. Although it wasn't late in the evening, the sky had already dimmed and a biting breeze came in from the river. Dylan shivered and wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck. He felt a pang in his heart as he remembered how Lofty had been earlier that day. Shaking uncontrollably, hyperventilating. _I have to help him._ As a doctor, it was in Dylan's nature to help people, yet this felt different. Dr Keogh usually regarded patients as a list of symptoms to treat; a puzzle for him to solve. Yet with Lofty... This was different. And Dylan couldn't understand why. All he knew was that he _needed_ to help the nurse.

"Lofty?" Dylan called out as he stepped into the warmth of his houseboat. 'Lofty' felt so natural now, it had taken Dylan a while to warm to the young man's nickname. Nicknames were unnecessary, but somehow Lofty suited his.

"Dervla! Come here girl." Dylan felt his heart melt as his eyes rested on Lofty, sitting on his brown leather couch, stoking Dervla's head. The nurse raised his eyes to meet Dylan's, breaking the doctor out of his trance. Lofty looked better, there was more colour in his cheeks than before.

"Tea?" Dylan turned to the small kitchen, flicking the kettle on to boil.

"Yes please. Milk and a sugar." Trust Lofty to drink sugar in his tea. Dylan usually disapproved of this, but it brought a smile to his lips. Lofty could be so innocent, like a child really. Dylan felt a deep duty to protect his friend from whatever anxiety had been troubling him.

The men sat opposite each other, mugs in hand, watching Dervla chewing a bone in the corner of the living area.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dylan ventured cautiously. Why did he feel so nervous? He felt so out of his depth, he would never be able to understand people like Lofty could. And the last thing he wanted was to accidently say something to offend the nurse. _I can't hurt him again._

"Maybe you could talk me through these things?" Lofty picked up the cardboard box from the floor, emptying its contents onto the coffee table between them.

"They're just some things I hoped might help.. These" Dylan picked up the small yellow box of tablets, "are some herbal things many people swear by. You can take them whenever, they calm you but don't make you drowsy."

"Dysto-logesS?" Lofty squinted to read the label.

"Yeah. And this CD is just some mindfulness nonsense, I don't know it's probably your sort of thing." Dylan regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but looking at Lofty's face, studying the blue CD carefully, the nurse didn't seem offended, he looked, touched. Dylan picked up the small brown bottle of Rescue Remedy, turning it in his hands.

"This stuff is really good. Five drops on your tongue when you're feeling anxious and it calms you right down." Lofty looked up at Dylan intently. "It's herbal too. But it's really good. It kind of sucks the tension out of you somehow... It- it really helped me a few months back with my- my-..." Dylan murmured. He'd said too much. Memories of Brian and the fire and blood on his shirt and burns on his hands and the impact of icy water...

Dylan's eyes flew open at the touch of a hand on his knee. He didn't even remember shutting them. At Dylan's reaction, Lofty's hand shot back, his gaze dropped to the floor, embarrassed.

"I suppose.." Lofty began in a whisper, "that you, that you understand what it's like... for me... kind of..." How could he have ever called this nurse idiotic? He had hit the nail on the head.

"Yes." Dylan replied slowly, "I know how it feels to deal with fears... Fears that refuse to leave your mind unless you obey their demands, and even then... They won't let you be..." Dylan had never opened up to someone about his OCD like this before, not even Ben Harding really. Lofty nodded.

"It's been going on for a few years now...My anxiety that is... But I've always been able to keep it under control until recently. It just comes out of nowhere. Suddenly everything feels like it's closing in, like there's no air left to breathe. And my heart is pounding like a drum, so loud that the outside world becomes muffled. And then time slows down. The fear is so strong, it's like I'm about to leap off a cliff. My insides are tying themselves in knots, I feel sick. There's a tightness, a deep aching in my chest. It feels like slamming into a brick wall at 100 miles per hour when you didn't even realize you were driving. You were on autopilot, cruise control. You didn't even see the wall coming up ahead. The fear comes first; hot and fast. Then the sadness; thick and cold..."

Lofty bent over, head in both hands, trying to steady his breathing. Dylan just sat there, dumbfounded. He didn't know what to say. He had a fleeting urge to wrap the younger man tightly in his arms and kiss him hard. Slightly shocked at himself, he brushed the thought off. Although he felt awful for Lofty, part of him also felt, well, honored in a way. Honored that he was the one whom Lofty had opened up to. And now he had a duty to make things right. Dylan saw tears silently splash onto Lofty's jeans and in that moment he decided; seeing Lofty sad was one of the worst things in the world, and he was going to do what ever it took to prevent it from happening again. Tentatively, the doctor sat down beside Lofty, edged close to him and wrapped an arm around the nurse's shoulders. Lofty snuggled into him, breathing in the warm scent of pine and coffee and citrus, with a hint of antibacterial gel, a smell which seemed to permeate every inch of the hospital. Dylan's smell always calmed him down, made him feel safe. The tears stopped falling and he snuggled in closer, ignoring the fact that this was probably highly unprofessional. In the warm silence Lofty felt safe, under the yellow glow of the overhead lamp he let himself be lulled by the boat's gentle rocking, and his breaths became steadier, deeper, slower. And he closed his eyes, sinking into a soft world scented with pine, coffee, citrus and hospitals.


End file.
